Next Time
by nottonyharrison
Summary: "I only had pumps" And when he asks what she wants to talk to him about she feels like she's going to chicken out at the last minute... because the way he looks at her is burning and even though she knows he's manipulating her she can't help but think what if. A post season 1 episode 3 what if.
1. Chapter 1

"I only had pumps"

And when he asks what she wants to talk to him about she feels like she's going to chicken out at the last minute... because the way he looks at her is _burning_ and even though she knows he's manipulating her she can't help but think _what if_.

So she takes a sip of her drink with one hand and reaches for another glass with the other.

"I know what you're up to and I think I can help you." She pours him a bourbon and slides it across the counter towards him. He looks down warily and then his eyes go back to hers, this time a little narrower and a little cooler.

"Oh yeah? So what am I up to then?" He doesn't touch the glass.

So Beth puts her glass down and lays both palms down on the counter, arms wide, and leans over. "Do you do it because it's easier to make money, or do you do it because it's fun?"

He leans towards her and his face is only inches from hers. "What, you mean scarin' the shit out of desperate housewives?"

"I mean playing at having your own little gang." Her voice wavers a little but she presses on. "I bet you've got a masters in business and your parents are fucking anthropologists or something."

His left eyebrow twitches a little and he ducks his head to the side as if he's acknowledging the accuracy of the statement. "Art historian and investment banker, actually. But I commend you on your perception."

She can feel a rush of heat travel down her spine, and she shivers a little as their eyes lock.

And that's it that's the moment. That's the moment she realises she wants to fuck this guy and she doesn't even know his name.

It's the moment she realises she isn't even going to _ask_ him his name because she doesn't care. She just really, really wants to see his face between her legs.

"You're wrong about college though."

"Oh yeah?"

"Nah, darlin'. I gotta have some secrets." Her eyes drift to his lips and they're twisted in a smirk. There's a vacuum of sound for the next thirty seconds, sucking up everything bar the light sound of their breath.

And then there's a crash as the bottle hits the floor after Beth brushes it aside and climbs, _climbs onto _the kitchen island and pushes him backwards until he's standing straight again and she's on her knees, her jeans doing nothing to cushion them against the hard timber. She looms over him and cradles his face in her hands for a moment, then grips his cheek and tilts his head back to examine his tattoo.

"Is it real? She asks.

"Why don't you find out?"

She licks it, slowly and leisurely, and he lets out a shuddering huff of air like she's thrown him off kilter. "I dunno I can't tell, maybe I need to try something else." She replaces her tongue with her thumb and leans closer, mouth next to his ear as she squeezes his neck with her hand. "Maybe I need to try and sweat it off."

The noise he makes is choked and sharp, and then he groans and rips her hand away from his neck and turns his head to the side until his lips are slanted across hers and his slick tongue is sliding across her teeth.

Beth cant remember the last time she was really _kissed._ Like fully made out with someone, the way her kids call 'eating each other' when they see someone doing it on the TV. What she's doing is definitely that. _Oh my God_ is it that, his teeth bite down on her lower lip, before sucking on it. She gasps and grabs his shirt, and he grabs her by the waist and curls his arm around her back so she straightens up and is one again towering over him.

So she grabs his neck again and pulls him up until he's on tip toes, gasping as she tightens her grip. His grin turns wicked.

"My safe word is Hufflepuff," he manages to rasp out.

She lets go of his neck like his tattoo is a brand, but before she can back away he's lifted her off the island clumsily, her shins scraping on the edge. Then suddenly his lips are back on hers, open mouthed, breathy, _hot as fuck_ kisses and suddenly she's back where she was a few moments ago, ready to fall as far into depravity as he will take her.

"Where are your kids?" He says it against her lips as he tugs on the waistband of her jeans and releases the top button.

"Asleep up... ups_tairs_ _ohhhh._" and that's the moment his fingers reach into her panties and he slides his middle finger quickly in a straight line, pressing firmly as he slides past her clit and pulls his hand out of her pants. He shoves her jeans to the floor.

"They light sleepers?" His lips are at her ear and he's lifting her back onto the counter. She's suddenly glad it's the island and not the cold marble by the sink and is briefly taken out of the moment.

She goes still and sucks in a breath, then fixes her eyes on a dent in the ceiling where a Champagne cork hit it a few Thanksgivings ago. "Oh my god, what am I doing?"

He pulls back and rests his hands on her thighs. "I dunno, the pearls on the door, the extended eye contact... the climbing over a bottle of bourbon to lick my neck... kinda seems like you wanna fuck me."

She keeps looking at the ceiling dent. "Holy shit I don't even know your name."

"You want me to tell you? Because it's -"

She puts her hand over his mouth. "Don't. Finish that sentence."

He bites her finger.

She closes her eyes and lets out a soft whimper, and _that's _the moment. _That's really it._ Not the one from before during their banter, it's _this_ with his teeth digging into her finger and his hands pressing her thighs hard into the counter and she just thinks _fuck it_.

"Igglepiggle."

"What?" The word is muffled behind her hand.

"Safe word." She lets go of his face and slides her hand down his neck, then his chest, and finally to his pants where she grabs his belt and tugs him hard against her until his whole torso is pressed against hers. "And I'll get a notification on my phone if any of the kids walk into the hallway."

"You really wanna do this?" He trails his finger up her arm and across her collarbone, pulls aside her sweater, and bites down on her shoulder.

"Nobody's fucked me in five years, what do you think?" She lets some irritation slip in but he seems to brush it off. She shudders as he sucks lightly and lets go of her skin with a soft _pop_.

"Five years, huh? You still remember what goes where?"

"You're an asshole."

"What, like that's a surprise?" He pulls back and drags his tongue across his lower lip before slowly dropping to his knees and tugging her underwear aside. Beth shivers and has a moment of nervousness which disappears as soon as his tongue swipes up in one long lick.

"_Jesus_."

'Fuck lady when was the last time someone ate your pussy?"

She looks down and his face is contorted in an expression of disbelief. She frowns. "_More than_ five years ago." There's more than a bit of sass in her tone.

They don't say a lot after that, she's already wet and he's more than happy to use that to his advantage, pressing a finger into her and flicking and sucking at her clit until she's clutching at his head and the edge of the counter... anything she can get a hold on. She shudders a few times, close to orgasm but not wanting to tip over the edge, and eventually grabs his chin and drags him up to her face, kissing him sloppily with way too much tongue. He gives it right back, pressing his mouth hard into hers and pressing a second finger into her, rubbing hard with his fingertips until she lets go of his mouth and tips her head back with her mouth open in a silent exclamation.

She's breathing heavily as she comes down and goes to grab at his belt but he grabs her wrists almost painfully. She shivers and makes a small noise in the back of her throat that she's never heard before "Nah, darlin' not this time."

He lets go, and grabs her hair close to her scalp, twisting it just a tiny bit and it makes her moan.

"Psychology," he says.

She's only half listening, distracted by the feel of his knuckles grinding into her scalp.

"What?"

"You were right about the post grad though." He bites his bottom lip, and lets go.

And then he leaves.

And she is still stuck on _next time._

_End._


	2. Chapter 2

Beth is fidgeting with the edge of her shirt while she waits for him in the cafe. It's midday on a Thursday and the kids are all in school, she's put a load of washing on before leaving the house, and there's a chicken in the crockpot. She's been occupying herself by trying to find Rio on facebook but it's proving entirely futile. There's thousands of result in Detroit and she's starting to feel like a stalker.

She rolls her eyes and drops her phone face down on the table.

"Oh, sweetheart come on I'm not that late, am I?"

Beth bristles as Rio slides into the chair opposite. "You know if you want this to work you need to be on time."

"Oh do I? See the way I see it I'm doing you a favour by not killing you so if you'd rather we go down that path..." He makes a move to get up and she reaches over the small table and grabs his arm, yanking it so he sits back down hard on the chair. He shuts his eyes for a moment and grunts.

"Sit your ass down and stay there," she hisses.

He raises his eyebrows and bites his lip. "Oh wow, baby got an attitude."

Beth bites her upper lip and frowns. "Look, we need to get our stories straight."

He widens his eyes in mock innocence. "'Bout what?"

She leans over the table and glares at him. "You know about what... about the... you know."

"Oh the fucking?" He leaves his mouth open for a few moments after he says it and his lips are plush and soft looking and she screws her toes up in her shoes.

"Can you keep your goddamn voice down?"

They're both silent for a bit and the waitress comes over. He orders a hot chocolate and asks for extra marshmallows with a wink and a cheeky smile and the waitress blushes before rushing away.

"Jesus, do you ever not flirt?"

"What, you jealous?" He reaches over the table and tucks a lock of her hair behind an ear. "You don't gotta be, I mean you're the only woman I'm currently payin' to wash cash for me so we've got a special connection."

She swats his hand away. "Don't feed me that trash."

He runs his tongue over his lips and rolls them together, pauses, and folds his hands in front of him. "Okay, fine you're the only woman I'm payin' to wash cash whose pussy I've had my tongue in."

She screws her face up. "Ugh, do you have to use that word?"

"What word?"

"Pussy."

"What's wrong with pussy?"

"It's just..." she shudders, "ick."

Rio leans back in his chair. "Look I'mma level with you ok?" He averts his eyes for a moment and lets his hands drop to his lap. "I'm not a nice guy, you know this. I've done shit that you wouldn't even dream about and enjoyed it. If you're doin' this for some kind of mid life crisis thrill then I'm not down for that."

Beth's jaw drops. "How old do you think I am?"

He just laughs and smiles at her crookedly. "'Bout two years away from an MX-5 and a divorce."

Beth wrinkles her nose and purses her lips. "Fuck you."

She grabs her bag and stands up. Rio looks back towards the counter where the waitress is on her way to their table. "Hey can I get that to go? One of those KeepCup things yeah?" He tosses a twenty down on the table and Beth sneers and spins on her heel. She's half way to her car before he catches up for her and slides his hand onto her back, guiding her towards his car. "Look, here's the deal."

He stops as they reach the driver's side, and places the cup on the roof. A marshmallow drops off the lid and he grabs it and pops it in his mouth. Beth brushes her hair out of her face and crosses her arms. "Deal away."

"You scare the shit outta me."

Beth takes a moment and jerks her head back in surprise. "Oh yeah?"

He laughs, but there's not really any humour in it. "You think I've ever let someone like you into my world? You think I don't know the risk I'm taking by letting you make some pocket money?"

"It's not pocket money."

His eyes dart to the left and he frowns. "Give me your keys.'

Beth curls her lip and flares her nostrils. 'No!"

"We've got company give me your keys."

She reaches into her handbag and presses the bunch of metal into his palm. He leans over and kisses her on the cheek before sliding his mouth to her ear. 'Look in the mirror."

She looks down at the wing mirror and sees a figure standing in the door of the diner. She can't tell who it is without squinting or leaning closer so she just crosses her arms and watches Rio put the keys under her wheel arch. He walks back with a bit of extra swagger and a smile that makes her remind herself she shouldn't be feeling like jelly inside.

"Get in the car." His face is smiling but his words are terse. She walks around and gets in the passenger side.

"Was that Turner?" She puts her seatbelt on and stares straight ahead.

"Yeah... look as much as I'm enjoying this angry sexy banter we've got going on I really need to know what you said to him." He pulls out of the parking space and onto the road, glancing in the rear view mirror.

"I um... I told him we met in a bar... and then I took you home and you..." she trails off and bites her lip. "Look, the important thing is I told him we never saw each other again okay, and now we're..."

The car goes silent. Rio switches lanes and turns left at a light. They don't say anything for a few minutes, and his eyes flick between his mirrors as zips between traffic.

"He's following us, isn't he?" she asks.

He looks at her out of the corner of his eye. "Yeah."

"Where are we going?"

"My house."

She freezes and her veins turn to ice. 'Why would you do that?"

"He's been investigating me for months, you think he don't know where I live?" They stop at a red light and he turns to her. Her skin prickles as she feels his gaze drift down her body. "Hey... hey look this is a move, okay? He thinks I'm comfortable with taking you to my house, we get a bit of breathing room. Take some time to regroup, plan out a strategy... make it believable you feel me?"

She doesn't say anything, just presses her lips into a line and glances at him. "Okay."

What follows is twenty minutes of silence. Beth tries to pass the time by going back to facebook, but as soon as she unlocks her phone she's confronted with the search from earlier and she drops it back into her bag. She watches the buildings turn from low rise apartments to single family homes, and eventually larger stately houses with fancy gardens and well trimmed trees. They pull up outside an out of place home, modern glass and concrete against the traditional cookie cutter brick and tiles down the rest of the street.

She looks over at him. "You not gonna park inside?"

"Garage is full. Get out."

She grabs her bag and hurries out of the car, trotting behind him as he walks up the path. He hesitates for a moment in front of her and turns, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the front door. There's no keys, just a code, and a click as it unlocks.

"You could have just let me drive home, this is stupid." She drops her bag at the door and looks around. It's not exactly the inner city bachelor pad she was expecting, but she can't say she's surprised.

"Oh yeah, and when Turner drags you in and asks you what we were having a little catch up about what were you going to say huh? That we were on a date?"

She huffs and crosses her arms. "I need a drink." Rio cocks his head and licks his lips. "Get me a fucking drink."

His eyebrows shoot up and he turns his mouth down in a mock frown. "Okay, okay I'll get you a drink."

"Bourbon." She leans against the door. "Don't be stingy."

The whole floor is mostly open plan, and he wanders over to the kitchen, opens a cupboard and pulls out a couple of glasses and a bottle. Their eyes lock as he puts everything on the concrete counter. He looks off, like his mind is somewhere else but his eyes are fixed on her.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," he replies, voice rough. He looks down at the counter, goes to pour a glass, and hesitates before setting the bottle back down hard. It makes a loud clink and Beth flinches. "Hey can I ask you something?"

"Shoot." She moves toward the kitchen warily, worried that at some point he's going to snap and realise he made a mistake bringing her there.

"Your husband like it when you choke him?"

Beth sucks in a breath and it sticks in her throat. She freezes and balls her hands into fists. She throws his words from earlier back at him. "Why? You jealous?"

She can see his tongue run across his teeth behind his lower lip, and press into his cheek. He sucks in a breath through his nose. "What if I told you I like it."

Beth sputters and looks up at the ceiling. It's black pressed tin and she focusses on the detail of the Art Nouveau pattern to slow the fluttering in her chest. She can hear him moving quietly towards her and eventually moves into her peripheral vision, until he's standing up against her side, and she's turning her head to face him properly.

"Take me to your bedroom."

He looks like he's going to try and kiss her for a moment, but it passes and he turns walks toward a short flight of steps on the other side of the kitchen. She briefly considers heading back to her bag and calling an Uber until he pulls his shirt over his head and she's confronted by the long, hard lines of his muscular back and shoulders.

"Fuck it," she mutters to herself, and she follows. His belt buckle clinks and the sound of leather running across denim comes through the open doorway. "Leave your pants on."

...

She doesn't know what to expect when she reaches the top of the stairs. Possibly some kind of messy, stuffy room with a few clothes scattered around and maybe a couple of bongs. Or perhaps a stark, empty space devoid of personality and clinical in its cleanliness. It's neither, it's normal. there's sun filtering through the sheer curtains, and a bed, couch, and side tables. The walls are dark blue and the floor is wood with a couple of expensive looking oriental rugs.

And he's standing in the middle of it, hands by his sides, chin up in defiance.

"Where did you put the belt?" she asks. He gestures to the floor a few feet to her right. She steps over and picks it up. "Hufflepuff, right?"

He makes a noise of agreement.

"Any ground rules?"

His eyes are soft and dark, and his mouth is open a tiny bit. She can see a flush creeping up his neck, and he blinks slowly. "I'll let you know if I'm not into it."

She moves over to him and runs the tongue of the belt up his side. His muscles twitch as she reaches his chest, and he shivers. "Take off my shirt. Nicely."

His fingers unbutton her blouse, slowly moving down until he's undoing the last button, and pushing it off her shoulders. His tongue darts out of his mouth and he bites his lip. A noise of appreciation slips out and he runs a finger down her chest until it catches where the cups of her bra join.

"I'm not sure I said you could touch." She feels a bit self conscious. She's not wearing a sexy bra by any means. It's beige and has wide straps designed to stop her back from hurting and her shoulders from being left with red gouge marks at the end of the day.

"What are you going to do about it?" He's sliding a hand into one of the cups now, squeezing her nipple between two fingers until she hums in appreciation. She takes his wrist and pulls his hand out though, lowering it to his stomach and grabbing the other hand until she's fastening them together with the belt, perhaps one notch tighter than she should.

Its been a while since she's given someone a blowjob. She does the math in her head and when she really thinks about it, she's pretty sure the last time she sucked Dean's dick was some time in 2007. She didn't really enjoy it then, and she's not sure she's going to enjoy it now, but this is all about power and at this specific moment she's intoxicated by it.

So she unzips his jeans, and shoves them to the ground along with his boxer briefs. She lifts his ankles and takes one foot out at a time, then tugs off his socks and tosses the small pile at the wall. She doesn't look at his cock, just looks up at him and licks a long stripe up the underside, until her tongue slides across the tip. She expects to see his head tipped back, but he's looking down at her, eyes dark. He's holding his bound hands off to the side, clearly determined to watch her and she decides to let him.

He lets out a long breath and a muttered fuck as she wraps her mouth around him, swallowing as far as she can, and wrapping her hand around the rest. The leather of the belt creaks as he flexes his wrists, and the few times he tries to thrust into her mouth she grabs his thigh and digs her fingernails in.

And then she stops.

She's shocked to hear a whimper as she rises back up, pressing her body hard against his. "No."

"You have no idea how much I wanna fuck you right now." He's leaning forwards, chasing her lips, but she turns her head to the side.

"Oh yeah?" Beth bites her lip and pushes him backwards until the back of his legs hit the bed and he falls down gracelessly with a hard shove. "This your power fantasy? The idea of fucking someone who was in college while you were in kindergarten?"

She undoes the clasp of her pants and works them over her hips, leaving her underwear on. He tosses his head back and chuckles.

"So what if it is?" Her heart stutters for a moment as he looks back at her, and she's suddenly painfully aware that he's manipulating her. Then she remembers she doesn't care, because she's about to fuck a guy that looks like he belongs in a Tom Ford commercial, and his cock is fantastic.

She straddles his thighs, and shuffles up the bed until she's sitting on top of his hands. She wiggles her ass until she manages to work his knuckle under the fabric of her underwear and grinds down hard. He twists his wrist and tries to slide a finger into her but the angle isn't quite right. She lifts up a bit, pulls the gusset to the side fully, and resettles until his fingers are buried deep inside her, rubbing against just the right spot. She can feel him trying to touch his cock with the other trapped hand and leans down, pressing hard against his throat with her palm.

"Be good."

He gasps and rolls his shoulders against the covers. "Fuck do that again." She squeezes a bit harder, and digs her fingernails into his shoulder. "Don't beak the skin ok?"

She lowers her mouth and latches onto his earlobe, biting down hard as she pulls away. He grunts.

And then she sits on his cock. No build up, no warning, and his whole body shudders. Pushes back hard into the mattress and arches his back, and she puts both hands on his chest and shoves him back down until he's staring at her eyes wide and pupils dilated.

"You tell me when you're gonna come, okay?"

He nods, and squeezes his eyes closed. She undoes the clasp of her bra and tosses it to the floor, and grabs his hands pressing them against one breast. He squeezes her nipple and she shudders, grinding down hard against him until she twitches in pain when he hits a spot she isn't ready for.

It goes like that, until he's gasping and his eyes are squeezed tightly shut, and she slaps him.

They both go still and she's wide eyed and flustered. 'Shit I'm sorry."

"Fuck, that's it I'm gonna-"

"No."

She lets his dick slip out and moves up his chest until her crotch is in his face and she's sitting on his lips. It's awkward and the way they're lying on the bed means she has nothing to hold on to but his nose nudges the fabric to the side, and his tongue works its way in circles around her clit and it's not long before she's gasping and digging her fingers into her own thighs.

And then a shock runs through her body and she shivers and lets out a choked noise... and it's not like the last time she had an orgasm, alone in her bedroom with a vibrator and some average girl on girl porn.

She never thought she would say screwing someone whom she has such a contentious history with was intimate. But it is.

And then her heart drops and she gets off the bed and asks him where his bathroom is, and he gestures to a door with his bound hands, breathing hard and digging his toes into the bedspread. She hears a soft sound and the jingle of a belt buckle and assumes he's trying to free his wrists. She opens the bathroom door and looks for a lightswitch.

"I don't have switches."

She jumps in surprise at his voice right behind her. It's rough, like he's been coughing all day. She turns and looks at his form, illuminated by the bedroom. His wrists are still bound together, and his cock is hard between his thighs and she feels bad for a moment until she doesn't.

"So turn the light on for me."

"Bathroom on." She turns to the sink and turns on the tap, washing her hands and running her cool wet palms up her arms. She looks in the mirror and he's leaning on the opposite wall. She's not sure how to describe his expression, somewhere between lust, irritation, and curiosity.

"Hufflepuff."

She snorts and turns off the tap. "What, you can't get that off yourself?"

Their eyes meet in the mirror and he steps forward until he's close enough to lower his hands over her, trapping her in the circle of his arms.

"I want you to do it." His breath is hot against her neck, and she shivers as he kisses her shoulder. She fumbles for the buckle and it drops with a clang to the porcelain.

She's not sure how she ends up with her back against the mirror and her ass on the counter, but she does. And he's fucking her hard until she's gasping and shuddering, and he's telling her every other way he wants to have her, until his words have devolved into stuttering, erratic breaths and he stills against her. She rubs her clit for a few moments until she's there again, and as she clenches around his softening cock she can't help but wonder what the fuck she's doing and why it doesn't feel completely wrong.

"What the hell are we doing?"

He pulls back and for the first time since she's met him she would swear he looks vulnerable and so ridiculously young and she's sure this time it's not a ploy.

And when he kisses her it's like a romance novel, when the butterflies are in your stomach and you feel your whole insides swell, and she tries not to show it by biting down hard on his bottom lip and sucking it into her mouth before ripping her face away from his.

"I have to go pick up my kids."

He grins and runs a finger down the side of her face.

"Me too."

She chokes a breath, and he tosses his head back and laughs.

"That age difference power fantasy is all yours baby, but thanks for the compliment."

End.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The first time she meets his son, it's at the park. He's handing her a bag filled with cash and a .38 Special. The kid's cute, about the same age as Jane and just as precocious. He proudly tells his dad about a new friend he made on the swings, then shows them a dance move he learned, and she waits until he runs off to the monkey bars before turning to his father.

"You hiring _kids_ to keep up appearances now?" She tries to keep the sneer out of her voice but is only partially successful.

Rio snorts, and slaps his hands down against his knees. "Everything gotta be a play to you? You can't just believe I got a kid?"

She turns back towards where the little boy is playing on the bars waving in their direction, and sits back against the bench. "He went to the same preschool as Jane, I'm surprised I never saw you there."

"Yeah, well I was busy."

"Too busy to be a parent?"

"Something like that." He looks down at his hands where he's pushing his cuticles back on one had with the thumbnail of the other. "Look, I ain't here to get into a sparring session with you, just take the gift and stick it under your pillow, okay?"

She shakes her head and scrunches up her nose before peering back into the bag. "Why?"

He turns to her and puts a hand on hers. The paper of the bag makes a soft crunch as it collapses into her lap, and she looks up at him. His mouth is set in a grim line, eyes serious, and he claps the other hand down on her shoulder. "Because people talk, okay? People talk and when they see you and me together, they jump to conclusions like you're my drycleaner and maybe they're looking for a new person to keep their suits smellin' fresh too, you know what I'm sayin'?"

"But I _am_ your drycleaner."

"Yeah well I don't want nobody sniffin' around my laundry."

Beth huffs and jams the bag into her purse. "Nobody's going to break into a suburban mom of four's house just because they heard on the grapevine that she's cleaning your fucking suits."

"Oh yeah? How about if they heard through the grapevine that I'm fuckin' the drycleaner."

Beth stills, hand still in her purse. "It was _two times_."

His shoulders lift in a shrug. "That's enough." He sighs and sits back against the bench.

Beth glares at him and gets up off the seat, turning her head as she walks away. "Your suit'll be ready on Friday, don't forget payment is on collection."

...

"And then he started with this fucking _drycleaner_ metaphor which, frankly-"

"_Weak, right? Weak as Fuuuu."_ Beth hears the clatter of metal on tile and Ruby swears loudly.

"You okay?"

"_Yeah, fine just... don't you love corner cupboards I mean who thought they were a good idea?"_

Beth chuckles. "You should get one of those lazy susans, they're great."

"_Ugh, right. With what money? Homeboy's paying us peanuts in exchange for caviar."_

Beth is two bags in to unpacking the groceries when there's a lull in conversation and she hears a sound from down the hall. "Ruby I gotta go, I think Dean's in my bathroom again."

"_Where are the kids?"_

"I managed to wrangle sleepovers for all of them tonight, I guess he decided to try and make a long weekend of it, you know what he's like." She sighs. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

"_You okay to do the cash tonight?"_

"Yeah it's fine, it's not like Stan could say no to the extra money, and Annie's going to lose her job if she doesn't do what Boomer says."

"_Love you."_

Beth smiles as she walks down the hallway. "Love you too." She hangs up, and pushes open the door to her room. It's already cracked, and she frowns. Dean always closes both doors when he uses the en suite - he thinks it means she won't hear him. Her heart leaps into her chest and she looks over at the bedside table, where she had stashed the gun Rio had given her. She stops for a moment before walking as normally as possible around the foot of the bed, and decides to take a gamble.

"Honey, don't forget to hang the towels back up, you know how much I hate it when you leave them on the floor." As she's calling out, she reaches in to the drawer and pulls out the gun. The wood handle sits nicely in the palm of her hand, and she slams the drawer to mask the sound of the hammer being pulled back. A lick of steam floats out of the bathroom, and she takes a deep breath as quietly as she can, letting it out slowly.

Beth shuffles around the room a bit more, opening and closing drawers, before she gently pushes her shoulder against the bathroom door, gun clutched tightly in her hand.

There's a smear of blood on the floor, trailing towards the bath. A pile of neatly folded clothes sits on the closed toilet, and her heart is hammering in her chest as she creeps towards the bath.

It's the tan butt cheek and tattoos on the back of toned arms peeking out the side of the half closed shower curtain that give him away, and she's already letting out a sigh of relief as she rips the curtain back and points the gun dead at his chest. "Jesus Christ, you scared the _shit _out of me."

Rio looks up from where he's scrubbing at a patch on his arm. "Yeah, well I couldn't exactly show up at Rhea's covered in someone else's blood and viscera now, could I?" He pauses and glances down at her hands, where the gun is still clutched firmly. "You gonna put the gun down, or are we gonna get really kinky?"

Beth starts, and looks down at her hands. "Shit, yeah sorry just... why not just go to your place?"

"Was in the neighborhood, thought I could kill two birds." He leans back and runs his hair, which she just noticed is slick with conditioner, under the spray.

"You have basically no hair, why are you using my conditioner?"

"It smells nice, and I get dandruff." He closes his eyes and rinses off his scalp, while her eyes drift to his arms. The definition in his triceps does something weird to her insides. Then her gaze slides down his body, to his thighs, where she can see a strip of muscle snaking down towards his knee.

"Wait a minute... are you _flexing_?"

'Gotta give you somethin' to stare at."

"Ugh." She rolls her eyes and slides the curtain shut violently, and is about to storm out of the bathroom when a hand snaps around the plastic and grabs her by the wrist. He tugs at her arm, and then she's clambering in to the bath, fully clothed, shoes slipping on the wet floor. He takes the revolver from her hand, disarms it, and tosses it out onto the bath mat. "What are you doing?"

"What's it look like?" The corner of his mouth tilts up, and he presses her into the wall. She shivers.

"Like you're ruining a good pair of suede pumps."

He glances down at her feet and raises an eyebrow. "Oops."

He drops down to his knees and her mouth goes dry as he lifts one foot and pulls a shoe off and drops it over the side of the bath. He does the same with the other, then looks up at her and waits for a moment. She bites her lip, and he undoes the button of her pants, pulling them down her legs and taking her socks with them before sending them in the same direction as the shoes. His nose touches the inside of her knee, and she shudders as he trails his mouth up her inner thigh until he's biting at her underwear and shoving them down. She kicks them off and starts tugging her sweater over her head, but he snaps a hand down on her wrist before she gets it past her stomach.

"No."

Her hands fall to her sides, and he laces his fingers in hers, pressing them against the wall at an awkward angle as he presses his tongue against her in just the right spot, and flicks at it once before sliding his lips up towards her stomach and letting go of her hands. He stands, and she lifts her arms so he can tug off the top. It hits the floor of the bath with a wet thwack, and a few moments later her bra is gone and she's feeling incredibly exposed and inadequate against the long slim lines of Rio's torso. She panics.

"Showers are a really uncomfortable place to have sex, you know," she blurts out. "And I'm a lot older and... less flexible than you are."

Rio wraps a hand in her hair and tugs, until her neck is craning and she's looking directly up into his face. "You forget that conversation we had the last time?"

"Oh, what that you've got a kid? He's _six_."

"And when we had him I was older than you were when Kenny came along."

"Oh." Her hair is still trapped in his hand, so she shifts her eyes down to where the bird rests against his throat.

"Besides, what's age got to do with it, you don't think anyone with eyes doesn't want to fuck you? Jesus _look at you_." His hand runs down her side, and he squeezes at her rubs until she sucks in a breath. 'You got any idea how often I think about this? About you and me, no clothes just soap and water and skin?" She lets the breath out slowly and cringes about how nervous it sounds. "I don't even think about fucking you, I just think about touching you everywhere, squeezing that gorgeous ass and sucking on your tits until you beg me to go down on you."

She lets a moan slip through her lips and then stiffens. "Wait, you know my kids' names?"

He groans and drops his forehead against her shoulder. "Killin' the mood, ma."

"Please don't call me that."

He kisses her collarbone and relaxes the hand in her hair. "Why? You want me to call you something else?"

"It's just... I don't like it okay. Just call me by my name."

He nods and lifts his head. And then his lips are on hers, and she's grabbing at his shoulders until she can feel her nails biting into his skin. His mouth is hot, demanding, and slick, and she can't help but lift a leg up as high as she can to wrap around his thigh. His dick is pressing into her pelvis and he thrusts his hips, hard enough for her to get a bit of friction where it matters.

At one point, the other foot slips, and he catches her, lifting her up until her legs are wrapped around his hips. They both giggle, breath catching as she circles her hips. He kisses her again in response, and she can't help but smile against his mouth. She thinks of the way it twists in a smirk, how his lips stretch across his perfect teeth when he smiles, how he bites at his lower lip, and juts out his jaw when he's indignant.

She thinks about all of this as he breathes hard against her own mouth, open and desperate, before he adjusts her against him and bites down on her chin. She digs her nails into his shoulder again and he moans loudly before pressing his whole torso hard against hers until her breath leaves her, body sandwiched between him and the wall.

They stay like that until the water begins to lose its heat... fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. Beth's mouth feels raw from his beard, and they've nearly fallen to the ground five or six times, but it's almost like he's _determined_ to drive her crazy.

So she lets her legs fall to the ground and pushes him away from her, shuts the water off, and steps out of the shower.

Her eyes immediately go to the streak of blood on the floor, and she reaches for a towel, wrapping it around her before grabbing some toilet paper getting down on her hands and knees to scrub it away. The steam in the bathroom has kept it from drying, and it wipes off easily. It's when she's tossing the paper in the toilet that she feels him behind her, and a moment later she's standing again, being shoved through into the bedroom until the backs of her knees are hitting the bed and she's forced to sit down heavily. The bed creaks.

"Killin' the mood, _Elizabeth_."

His finger trails down her chest until he's untucking the towel from around her breasts. Her breath catches at his expression. He looks vulnerable, like he's just shared his darkest secrets. Their eyes lock, and she swallows, _hard_.

"What are we doing?"

His hand slides up her neck and up into her hair a the back of her head. "You ever meet someone and every time you look at them, you just want to be right _there_? Not like... fuckin' and shit just... _there_." Her eyes narrow. "Not that I... don't want to fuck you because I think it's pretty ya know, obvious that I do."

"You've held a gun to my head multiple times."

"That was different."

"You threatened to kill me _two weeks_ ago."

He leans his forehead against hers and sighs. 'Yeah well you did steal from me and get me arrested, I think that's a kind of reasonable reaction." She shoves at his chest and he holds his hands up in surrender before stepping away. "Look, I get it if you don't feel the same way. I've been an... asshole and that's probably not something that's easy to get over."

Beth cocks her head to the side. "I need a drink." She pushes up off the bed and secures the towel back around her before wandering in to the kitchen and opening the cabinet with the glassware. "You want one?" she calls out.

"Nah, I'm good."

She jumps at his voice in her ear, and shudders as his lips brush against her earlobe. Her hand has a tiny tremor as she pours out a couple of fingers of bourbon, and tosses it back in one swallow, biting back the cough.

"Elizabeth..." His head is pressed into the crook of her neck, and she shivers at the intimacy.

"Yeah?"

"Use me."

Beth puts the glass back to her mouth and sucks the last few drops of the drink as they drain from the bottom. He's stepped back, but she can still feel his presence, close enough for his body heat to kiss her skin, far enough away for her to turn without touching his.

She turns until they're face to face, her in just a towel, him completely naked in her kitchen, at three-thirty in the afternoon. He's standing a few meters away from the spot where he went down on her that first time, and her thoughts go to the noise he made when she pressed her hand hard against his tattoo.

She lets her fingers trail down his arm, shoulder to wrist, where she wraps her hand around, straining to touch her fingers and thumb. He grunts and sucks in a shuddering breath, so she squeezes again, and his eyes flutter shut and head tips back.

"Put me on the counter." He picks her up around the waist and goes to put her next to the sink, and she shakes her head. "No, on the island. Around the other side."

He drops her back to the floor and walks her backwards until they're in the spot she wants. "Do it."

She drops the towel once she's up on the counter, and leans forward until her eyelashes are kissing his cheek, and her breath is on his neck where her hand grips gently. "Now finish what you started the first time."

He goes to slide down her body, but she digs her fingers into his neck until he bites his lip and lets out a sound that makes her inside feel like a cement mixer.

"No, I said finish what you started, not give me a replay."

So he curls himself around her, and presses his dick against her until he's thrusting against her clitoris, his soft skin sliding up through her pubic hair and against her belly, and she lets her mouth drop open.

"That husband of yours due home any time soon?" A shiver runs through her, and she whimpers.

"I don't know."

"That turn you on? That he could walk through this door right now, see us here like this? You think it would make 'im want to try fuck you like I can? Until you're messy and sweaty and so wet you can't tell who's cum is dripping outta you?"

She doesn't reply, just reaches down and squeezes his dick until he's silently twitching and shaking against her.

She know's he could just shove himself into her with little care, but she wants to make him squirm, so she maneuvers him until the tip is just inside her. He tries to thrust into her, but she slaps her hand around his upper neck and tilts his chin until he's staring at her with dark eyes. "What do you want?" Her question hangs in the air for a few moments.

"I want you to welcome that asshole into this home with open arms and open legs." She knows the confusion is showing on her face, and he runs a finger down her cheek and wraps it in her hair. "I want you to stand here after I come inside you, letting it slide down your thighs until they're sticky. I want you to kiss him on the cheek when he gets home and then tell him to shove his face in your crotch."

All of a sudden he's deep inside her, hitting a spot she's not ready for yet, and she jerks. His hand tightens in her hair, and he holds her to him so tight she can feel her tits squishing up toward her collarbone. She squirms under the heat of his gaze. His voice is rough and hoarse. "Then when the shock wears off and he decides _fuck it, here's my chance_, and his tongue is deep in you, I want you to tell him you love the feel of _my_ cum leakin' down your legs, and then ask him to lick it up before getting the fuck outta your house."

Beth twitches violently, and she can feel her eyelashes flutter as she clenches around him. She knows it's wrong and dirty, but she doesn't care. She's exactly what Annie would call _lost in the sauce_ and fuck, why is she thinking about her _sister _right now.

It hits her hard and fast, her body unexpectedly tensing and she lets out a guttural _unhh_ as she comes, eyes tightly closed and sweat trickling down the back of her neck. Her legs are held tightly against his hips, heels digging into his ass, and as her as eyelids twitch open, she catches the desperate look on his face as he lets himself go.

And then when he's looking at her again, something passes between them and they're kissing. It's soft and messy, he tugs at her lip gently with his teeth and she licks his with the tip of her tongue. And then he's pulling away abruptly.

"Don't move." He's firm and authoritative as he runs a hand down her arm, before he turns around and strides off down the hallway. She' shivers, still naked on the counter, and tugs the towel up over her shoulders.

He's back a few minutes later, fully clothed and a burgundy polka dot dress clutched in his fist, his mouth set in a firm line. "Put this on."

"I-"

"_Put it on_."

She grabs the dress and tugs it on, doing the buttons up quickly and letting the skirt pool around her hips, her ass still bare against the wood.

"Stay there until he gets home, yeah?"

She nods silently, and he turns to walk away.

"What about my money?" Her words cut through the empty space between them, and he pauses as he opens the door.

"You call me when he's gone running to his momma, and I'll bring it by."

"I thought you said you brought it."

"I told you I was killin' two birds Elizabeth. By my count takin' a shower and fucking you is two."

"Is that all that was, fucking?" Her heart feels like it's about to pound through her chest, and she looks down at the hem of the dress, where her fingers are playing with the space below the bottom button.

He presses his lips together, and she can hear his shoes squeak against the floor. "Call me when he's gone."

_End._


End file.
